To Touch or Not to Touch
by Hailey Russell
Summary: MonkDead Zone crossover. Johnny sees a murder, and needs Monk to help solve the case.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Neither Monk nor The Dead Zone nor any of the characters belong to me.

AN: I've been thinking about this crossover story for a while and am still not sure where to take it. So suggestions are very welcome. Hope you enjoy. :

To Touch or Not to Touch

A woman with long red hair ran down the dark street in the rain. She looked over her shoulder, screamed and ran faster. She sped around the corner, narrowly missing a car, and splashed in a puddle as she leapt onto the sidewalk. She screamed again as her pursuer grabbed her arm. Wrenching her arm free, she fled to the street as a van came speeding in her direction. The driver blew his horn, but it was too late. The van bounced twice over her body and sped on.

Johnny Smith woke up sweating and put a hand to his aching head.

Natalie Teeger sighed. "Mr. Monk, I could really use your help in the kitchen."

"Almost done," Adrian Monk said as he carefully placed the smallest gift on top of the pile. He looked at the present from both sides, moved it a fraction of a millimeter, scrutinized it again from both sides and moved it another nanometer. He straightened and stepped back to study the entire pile.

Natalie heard a giggle and turned to see six girls.

"Julie, why don't you take your friends to your room and listen to your new CD. I'll call you when the pizza gets here."

"Ok, mom."

The girls trooped down the hall as Natalie went to Monk's side.

"Mr. Monk, thank you for stacking the gifts. Really."

"Don't mention it," he replied, minutely adjusting a gift.

"I really need help with the snacks."

"I'd like to help, but I still have to organize the card envelopes," Monk said moving to the other end of the table. "First by size," he said shuffling the envelopes in his hands. "Then by color, then by weight."

"You can do that later," Natalie offered.

"But Samantha will have already opened them by then. They'll be torn irregularly and impossible to fix and oh I can't think about it."

"Mr. Monk," Natalie said taking the envelopes from him. "Please."

Monk looked at the cards then at Natalie. "Ok," he said reluctantly and followed her into the kitchen.

Natalie handed him a large bowl and pointed to three bags of chips. "Put those in this."

"All of these snacks are unhealthy," Monk commented moving to the bar. "They're already having pizza. Shouldn't you give them fruit or crackers or…?"

"This is a sleepover. You're supposed to gorge," Natalie answered popping a handful of M&M into her mouth.

"I thought the idea of a _sleep_over was to sleep." Monk held his hands out and looked around for something to wipe the grease from the chips on.

"Here," Natalie said tossing him a dishtowel.

Monk watched it land on the floor and grimaced.

Natalie sighed and handed him a paper towel.

"No way. The point of a sleepover is to stay up late watching scary movies and eating snacks. And gossiping. Don't you remember? I mean I know boys don't do the same things girls do when they get together, but…" She arranged graham crackers, chocolate bars and marshmallows on a plate as she talked.

"I wouldn't know," Monk said as he tried to arrange the chips neatly in the bowl.

"You've never been to a sleepover?"

"No."

"Well, you can be part of this one."

"That's ok."

"Come on. It'll be fun." Natalie licked chocolate off her fingers.

"I don't think so."

"You don't want to stay up late watching scary movies?" Natalie asked in a tantalizing tone.

"Not really."

"Of course not. Well, you'll have to sleep in my room because we'll be taking over the living room."

Monk moaned and groped for a chair.

"Don't worry. I'll straighten up first."

Monk grimaced and sank into a chair at the kitchen table.

"I'd offer you Julie's room, but it's worse than mine."

Monk looked queasy.

"Well, there's always your place," Natalie said popping a batch of cookies into the oven.

"No. No, I can't sleep knowing that stuff is just sitting there."

"It's on your neighbor's porch."

"I know. But it's such a mess."

"Did you talk to them about it?"

"Yes."

"What did they say?"

"They said when they're done cleaning out the room for the new baby they'll take care of it. But that could be days."

"Well, you're welcome to stay here," Natalie said brushing cracker crumbs off her hands. "But you'll have to put up with us. Ok, I've got crackers. Happy?"

"It's a start. How long are they staying?"

"Who? The girls?"

Monk nodded.

"Everyone but Samantha will be leaving tomorrow, but Samantha's mom won't be out of the hospital for another couple of days."

"Samantha's the one with the missing button?"

Natalie gave him a questioning look.

"The third button from the top of her sweater is missing."

"Is her sweater pink?"

"Yes."

Natalie nodded as the doorbell rang. "That's Samantha. The birthday girl."

Monk cautiously opened his eyes the next morning.

To the normal eye, Natalie had done a great job cleaning her room. However, Monk could already see ten imperfections. And that was just on the dresser across from the bed. He shielded his eyes from the rest of the room and quickly lowered his feet to his slippers.

After forcing himself not to look at anything in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth and got dressed, he ventured down the hall to the living room. He stopped short at the doorway.

Natalie was curled up in the chair, a blanket wrapped around her crookedly.

Julie, Samantha and another girl were squeezed together on the couch. Samantha's mouth was open, the other girl was snoring softly and Julie's hair hung in disarray.

The three remaining girls were in sleeping bags arranged haphazardly on the floor.

The coffee table was littered with partially empty bowls, chips, crackers, candy, two empty movie cases and three pizza boxes. There were two crusts left over in one open pizza box; one whole slice and one half slice in another open box. The third box was mercifully closed.

The TV was still on with a bouncing DVD logo on the screen.

There were open soda cans and paper plates strewn about the room.

"Oh God," Monk moaned. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," he chanted as he backed into the wall.

Natalie woke suddenly. "Mr. Monk?" She jumped up and went to him.

He was still chanting and staring straight ahead.

"What's the matter?" she asked with a yawn.

He stopped chanting and gestured at the room.

Natalie turned. At first she was confused; then it hit her. "Oh. Oh, it's ok."

"No," Monk moaned.

"Come on." She took his arm and led him into the kitchen. "I'll get you something to drink. You like orange juice?" She led him to a chair and pushed him into it.

The phone rang. Natalie answered it as she searched for a glass. "Good morning, Captain Stottlemeyer. No, that's ok. What's up?" She listened as she poured orange juice and took it over to the table. "Yes, sir. He's with me. We'll get there as soon as we can."

She hung up and handed Monk the glass. He sniffed the juice.

"Captain Stottlemeyer says there's a man in his office who knows something about a murder."

Natalie and Monk arrived at the police station in the middle of an argument.

"Mr. Smith, I can't do anything until-"

"All I'm asking is for you to take a look," a man with blond hair insisted.

"Mr. Monk's here now," Natalie said striding into Stottlemeyer's office. "So, let's go."

"Natalie-" Stottlemeyer started.

"Hi, I'm Natalie Teeger. This is Adrian Monk." She held out her hand.

"Johnny Smith. This is my friend Bruce."

"Nice to meet you," Bruce said shaking Natalie's hand. "No offense, but my buddy's not into shaking hands."

"Oh, I'm used to that," Natalie said with a laugh.

"I'm not into shaking hands either," Monk said smiling at Johnny.

"So where's the crime scene?" Natalie asked.

"The corner of State Street and 4th," Johnny said.

"There's something you need to know," Stottlemeyer said.

"You can tell us there," Natalie said as she left.

Monk, Johnny, and Bruce followed her.

Stottlemeyer sighed and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.

Bruce pulled up behind Natalie, and everyone gathered on the sidewalk.

"Where's the body?" Monk asked.

"Why don't you tell him, Mr. Smith," Sttottlemeyer said. "No one seems to be listening to me," he added.

"The body isn't here yet," Johnny said.

Natalie and Monk stared at him puzzled.

"I don't understand," Monk said. "I thought you said you knew something about a murder."

"I do," Johnny said. "It just hasn't happened yet."

After a brief pause, Natalie laughed without humor. "Is this a joke?"

"Apparently not," Stottlemeyer said.

"Look, I know this sounds crazy; but I saw it happen," Johnny insisted.

"How could you see it happen if it hasn't happened yet?" Monk asked.

"I have visions," Johnny explained. "When I touch people or objects, I see things."

"You're psychic,' Natalie said skeptically.

"Yes."

"Ok, I've got a house to clean and errands to run and a kid to help get ready for school tomorrow. I don't have time for this," Natalie said.

"Wait a minute," Monk said. "You say you touch something or someone and see things."

"Yes."

"What did you touch to bring you here to the other side of the country?"

Johnny, Bruce and Natalie gave him a questioning look.

"I noticed you have a Maine tag," Monk explained.

"Actually, I didn't touch anything," Johnny said reluctantly.

"Do you _have _to be touching something to have a vision?" Monk asked.

"Usually."

"Mr. Smith, we're very busy-," Stottlemeyer said rubbing his forehead.

"I know what I'm saying is hard to swallow, but I can't always predict how my visions come. Usually, when I touch something or someone a vision is activated. This one came in a dream. But I know it was a vision rather than a dream."

"How?" Natalie asked.

Johnny's shoulders sagged. "I don't know that."

"Why don't you touch something here?" Monk asked.

"Yeah," Natalie said. "Touch something. Tell us what happens, and I'm sure the captain will send someone here to keep a lookout."

"I can't do anything until a crime is actually committed," Stottlemeyer said as if he were speaking to kindergartners.

"Well, couldn't you have a squad car 'conveniently' on patrol here around the time the murder is supposed to occur?" Natalie pleaded. "Just to humor him," she added under her breath to Stottlemeyer.

Stottlemeyer sighed. "I suppose."  
"Good," Natalie said. "Ok, Johnny. Touch something."

Johnny looked around the area.

"Hurry up," Natalie said.

Johnny placed his fingertips against a nearby lamppost.

He was standing in the middle of the street at night. Hearing footsteps, he turned as a woman with long red hair rounded the corner. She had an expression of terror on her face. She turned as her pursuer came around the corner.

The man wore a pressed tan suit. As he neared the streetlight, Johnny was startled out of his vision.

"Johnny? What did you see?"

Johnny tried to catch his breath as he darted his eyes around.

"Is he ok?" Natalie asked.

Bruce put a hand on Johnny's shoulder.

"You," Johnny said looking at Monk.

"Johnny?" Bruce asked with concern.

"I saw you," Johnny said pointing at Monk. "You were chasing her."


	2. Chapter 2

Everyone looked around confused, not sure what to say.

"This is ridiculous!" Natalie broke the silence. "Mr. Monk wouldn't be at a murder scene."

"I know what I saw," Johnny said.

"You said there was a murder," Monk said.

"You don't have to listen to this," Natalie said to him.

"Tell them exactly what you saw in your vision, Mr. Smith," Stottlemeyer said. "What you told me earlier. Just…wait a minute," he added to Natalie and Monk.

"Just humor me," Johnny said.

"Tha-that's not what I-" Stottlemeyer stammered.

"It's ok, Captain. I'm used to it." Johnny recounted his dream/vision.

"If this is actually going to happen, we _have _to do something to prevent it," Natalie insisted to Stottlemeyer.

"Like I said-"  
"I know, but-"

"Why would I have been there?" Monk asked no one in particular.

"Well, there's one way to find out," Johnny said.

"Before we do anything, let's go back to the station," Stottlemeyer said inclining his head toward a small crowd of onlookers nearby.

III

"The nerve of that man," Natalie said for the third time as she gripped the steering wheel. "I mean to get everybody worked up like that. And to say you were there! At the scene of a murder!" She made a sound of frustration and unbelief.

"I don't think he was accusing me of anything."

"If you ask me, it was all a little too convenient."

III

"What do you think of Miss Teeger?" Bruce asked.

"She's very opinionated," Johnny replied.

"Confident and self-assured," Bruce emended.

"Oh yeah," Johnny said and paused then turned to look at Bruce.

"What?" Bruce asked.

"You like her." Johnny smiled.

Bruce laughed a little too loudly. "What are you talking about? She's pretty. I'll give her that."

"Don't forget 'confident and self-assured'," Johnny teased.

"Man, shut-up."

Johnny laughed.

III

"Psychics, murder and Monk," Stottlemeyer muttered in his car. "Oh my."

III

"What's going on?" Lt. Disher asked as everyone trooped back into the police station. He handed Stottlemeyer a folder.

"Lt. Disher, Johnny Smith and Bruce Lewis." Stottlemeyer opened the folder. "You know Monk and Natalie," he added under his breath.

"Nice to meet you," Randy said extending his hand to Bruce then Johnny.

As Johnny shook his hand…

A woman in a black dress sipped red wine and set the glass down. "So, how's work?" she asked.

"The usual," Randy Disher replied.

The couple sat at an intimate alcove table in a dimly lit restaurant with soft piano music playing in the background.

"Oh, I went on another car chase a few days ago," Disher said excitedly.

"Really?" The woman leaned forward with her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. "Tell me about it. Did you catch the perp?"

"This one was much better than my first one. We actually drove ten blocks this time. And we did catch the guy. He had stolen some flowers from a roadside vendor for his girlfriend. Not terribly exciting, really."

"You're just being modest I'm sure," the woman said.

Randy blushed.

"I really want you to meet everybody. They'll love you," he said taking her hand and kissing it.

"The way you talk about them I feel like I know them already."

"A man came in today claiming to psychically know something about a murder."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Was he right?"

"I don't know. We didn't get a chance to find out. We had to investigate another case."

They looked into each other's eyes for a minute.

"So what's this after dinner surprise?" the woman asked.

"Oh!" Randy went to reach into his pocket and bumped his wine glass, spilling the wine across the tablecloth into the woman's lap.

She screeched and scooted her chair back.

"I'm so sorry," Randy said rushing to her side with his napkin.

"It's ok," the woman said using her own napkin to wipe up the small puddle in her lap.

"I'm so very sorry." He buried his head in his hands.

"It's ok, Randy." She put her napkin on the table, took his hands and smiled. "Really."

…"Be careful with the wine tonight," Johnny said releasing Disher's hand.

"Huh?"

"This is going to have to wait people," Stottlemeyer said to Bruce and Johnny as he closed the folder Disher had given him. "There's been a double homicide."

III

Monk followed Captain Stottlemeyer into the room.

The air was foul with burnt flesh and recently dried blood.

"Oh!" he gasped and grabbed his handkerchief to cover his nose and mouth.

"Ew,' Natalie said entering behind him.

"Bodies are fresh," Disher explained.

"You think?" Natalie said holding her nose.

"How fresh?" Stottlemeyer asked the ME. He held his wrist in front of his nose and mouth.

"Within the last 45 minutes," the man asked standing. "Bag 'em," he ordered his team.

"Neighbor called 911 as soon as she heard gunshots," Disher said. "Guess the ambulance didn't get here in time."

"They couldn't have been saved anyway," the ME said. "The angle the bullets entered the skulls would have caused instant brain death. If they somehow survived, they probably would have bled to death. I'd like to take them now."

"You've got pictures of the bodies?" Stottlemeyer asked a man across the room taking pictures of something. Monk wandered over to him.

"Yes, sir. We're done with them here."

"Ok." Stottlemeyer nodded to the ME and went over to Monk and the photographer.

"This is strange," Monk was saying.

"What?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"Given the position of the bullet holes, the shots were fired from inside the apartment."

"Yeah."

"So, why is the window broken?"

"It may not be related to the homicide," Stotlemeyer said.

"I think it was," Monk said.

"Why?" Natalie asked as she and Disher joined them.

"Well, one of the men was turned slightly toward the window when he fell. Maybe something distracted him before he was shot."

"Or maybe he was desperately searching the room for a weapon or a way to escape," Stottlemeyer said.

"I don't know," Monk said.

"Well, we'll know more once all the evidence has been examined. Do you notice anything else unusual?"

Monk looked out the broken window. He saw four cars and a van parked across the street. The cars were empty, but two people were in the van. One person was wearing a blue hard hat and holding a newspaper up, presumably reading it. The man in the passenger seat was also wearing a blue hard hat and appeared to be dozing.

Besides the vehicles, there were people walking, jogging, skating and riding bikes. A man and a woman were sitting on a bench at a bus stop. They had their arms around each other and were leaning in for a kiss. The woman's scarf fell off her shoulder. They finished their kiss, but the woman didn't replace the fallen scarf.

"Anything?" Stottlemeyer called as he circled the room himself.

"She should fix her scarf."

"What?"

"Nothing," Natalie answered.

"No forced entry," Stottlemeyer was saying when Monk and Natalie joined him and Disher a few minutes later. "So the shooter was probably someone the victims knew."

"Did the neighbor who called 911 see anyone?" Monk asked.

"She's agreed to be questioned," Disher said.

"Why don't you question her, Monk?" Stottlemeyer said.

"Ok."

III

"Did you know the Ramone brothers well, Mrs. Stone?" Monk asked.

"Not well well. I mean, I knew their names, where they were from, what they did for a living. Rudimentary facts. We'd say hi whenever we passed each other in the hall or on the street. We exchanged Christmas gifts. Neighborly gifts. I baked them some cookies, and they brought me some flowers and muffins."

"So you were more like acquaintances," Natalie said.

"Yes," Mrs. Stone said.

"What did they do for a living/" Monk asked.

"They worked in construction. Contract work mostly."

"So they didn't work for one specific company?" Monk asked.

"They did several jobs for the same companies usually, but Tim said they preferred to keep their options open."

"Tim was the older one?" Monk asked.

"Mmhmm. Terry was eight years younger. His birthday was just a few weeks ago."

"Did they have a party?" Natalie asked.

"Oh yes. A very loud party. Several of our other neighbors threatened to call the manager or the police but I convinced them not to because these boys are hardly ever any trouble. _Were _hardly any trouble anyway," Mrs. Stone said and lowered her head.

"We're sorry, Mrs. Stone," Natalie said sitting beside her. "You must have really cared for them."

"Oh, call me Molly. They were always nice to me. They treated me kind of like a grandmother. I remember once my kitchen pipe was leaking. I'd called the manager twice, and all he could say was he'd get to it as soon as he could. Terry asked me how I was doing one day when we were both collecting our mail. I mentioned the pipe, and he said not to worry about it. Ten minutes later, he came over with some tools and fixed me right up. Pipe hasn't given me any problems since."

"So besides construction, Terry had some plumbing skills too?" Monk asked.

"They both seemed to have a variety of handyman skills. Their father ran some kind of shop back in Arizona where they grew up."

"Why did they move here?" Monk asked.

"They were having trouble finding work, Tim said. Then, when their father died, they sold the shop and wanted to get far away from old memories."

"What about their mother?" Natalie asked.

"Never said anything about her, and I didn't feel it was my place to ask."

"You heard gunshots," Monk said. "That's why you called 911."

"Yes."  
"Did you know the shots were coming from Tim and Terry's apartment?"

"No, but I figured somebody was going to need help."

"Did you see anyone come to visit them this morning?"

"I'm not the type to watch the comings and goings of her neighbors, Mr. Monk. If I happen to be in the hall when someone has company, then I see who the company is but I don't spy."

"We're not accusing of spying, Molly," Natalie reassured her. "We're just trying to solve a murder."

"Well, I hope you find the person who did this and lock him up for good. Those boys didn't deserve what they got."

"Did you hear anyone walk by in the hall this morning?" Monk asked. "Someone who may have knocked on Tim and Terry's door?"

"I thought I heard footsteps at one point, but I don't know where they were going?"

"What were you doing when you heard the gunshots?" Monk asked.

"Watching television. I was so surprised at first that I don't know if I heard footsteps leaving or not."  
"Of course," Natalie said sympathetically.

"Did Tim and Terry have company often?" Monk asked. "That you noticed," he added quickly.

"Sometimes they'd have a few friends over after work for a few beers. But like I said they weren't any trouble. Just that party a few weeks ago and one other time."

"What happened the other time?" Monk asked.

"There used to be a lady down the hall, a Mrs. Prescott. She claimed that they broke into her apartment and robbed her."

"What happened?" Natalie asked.

"Well, apparently one of the boys Tim and Terry had over after work one evening had a little too much to drink. They let him sleep on their couch so he wouldn't have to drive home. Some time in the night, he got up and broke into Mrs. Prescott's apartment and stole her late husband's coin collection and some small antiques she had displayed."

"Was the man ever caught?" Monk asked.

"Sure was. He went to jail for a spell, and Tim and Terry stopped being his friend."

"Are you sure?" Monk asked.

"Well, they told me he'd never be around here again."

"Where's Mrs. Prescott now?"

"She died a few years ago. She was about 100 and complained so much nobody misses her. Not like Tim and Terry will be missed."

"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Stone," Monk said.

"Let me know if there's anything else I can do."

"We will," Natalie said.

III

"Nice lady," Natalie said outside the apartment building.

"Very neat," Monk said as Natalie unlocked her car. "Did you see how her books were lined up? The magazines on her coffee table were in a perfect fan. You could see the first three letters of the title of each magazine."

"You're kidding," Natalie deadpanned

"And her newspapers. Oh the stacks were beautiful."

"Yes, beautiful. What about what she said? Did you hear anything that will help?"

"She said they worked in construction."

"Yep."

"There was a van parked across the street. Two men wearing construction hats were sitting inside."

"Where?"

"On the other side of the building."

Natalie drove around the apartment building twice.

"It's gone."

"Didn't you get the plate number?" Natalie asked.

"I couldn't see it because of the way it was parked."

"Well, we'll tell the Captain what we have then I have to get home."

"What about the other case?"

"What other case?"

"The murder Mr. Smith saw."

"Oh, that. It's probably not worth pursuing."

"But what if he's telling the truth?"

"That's the question isn't it? Is he telling the truth?"

IIII

AN: Thanks for the reviews. : Sorry I took so long updating.

Please keep reading, reviewing and offering suggestions.

Lauren: I hope you like Disher's part.


	3. Chapter 3

"Stay away from me!" the woman with red hair screamed. She turned and ran.

"Wait!" Mr. Monk called and followed her. He came around the building as she dodged a car by leaping onto the sidewalk. He saw another set of car lights approaching and reached for her arm. "Hey!"

The woman broke free, screamed and ran into the street.

The van's horn blew, but it was too late. It bounced over her body and kept going.

Johnny jerked awake and wiped sweat off his brow.

III

"Type of gun, bullet and a list of people in the area with this type of gun registered." Lt. Disher handed papers to Stottlemeyer and took another gulp of coffee.

"Wow, you've been busy," Stottlemeyer said sitting behind his desk and starting to examine the papers.

"Been here since 6, sir." He drained his coffee mug with a slurp.

Stottlemeyer stopped reading to look up at him.

"Fourth cup. I was up all night. Incredible night. Incredible! I'll have to tell you about it some time."

"Can't wait." Stottlemeyer went back to the papers but had barely read the first word when a commotion erupted outside his office. He looked out his window and sighed. "Not again."

"Want me to get rid of 'em?" Disher asked eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"No, I'll take care of it."

"I'm sorry, sir," a security guard said to Stottlemeyer. The guard and his partner were trying to physically lead Bruce and Johnny away from Stottlemeyer's office. "They refuse to leave."

"It's ok, Dan. I'll take over from here."

"Yes, sir." Dan and his partner unhanded Johnny and Bruce.

"Thank you, Captain," Johnny said.

"Inside," Stottlemeyer said sternly, indicating his office.

Bruce and Johnny entered the office and sat down.

"Get a copy of this intel to Monk," Stottlemeyer ordered Disher.

"On it." Disher leapt into action, literally, holding a fresh cup of coffee.

"Hey, Randy," Stottlemeyer called.

Randy spun back. "Yeah? Sir?"

"Ease up on the coffee."

"Ok, sir." He took one last gulp and set his mug on a table.

Stottlemeyer shook his head, went back into his office and closed the door.

"I know what you're going to say," Johnny said.

"Let's get something straight, Mr. Smith," Stottlemeyer said firmly, moving to stand in front of Bruce and Johnny. "In the last sixteen hours, there's been a double homicide, two robberies, one missing person, and about a dozen or more moving violations. These are in addition to the caseload this department was already working on. Every person here is busy. No one has time for something that _might _happen. Now, you seem like a nice man. And you may or may not be psychic. I don't know how to determine that. I don't know if I even believe in psychics. What I'm saying is I do not have the right, the time nor the resources to follow up on you 'vision' at the moment. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes," Johnny said.

"Look," Bruce said a bit angrily. "We understand that you're busy. But you should understand that Johnny's visions are always right."

"Well, not always," Johnny interjected.

"98 right. He helps the police all the time back home. Just call Walt Bannerman. Give him the number, John. He'll tell you that Johnny's foreknowledge has helped prevent tons of crimes. Go ahead, give him Walt's number."

"Ok," Stottlemeyer said. "I'll have your story checked out as soon as I can."

"Oh, thank you so much," Bruce said sarcastically. He took the card Johnny was about to hand Stottlemeyer. "Got a pen?"

"Uh, yeah." Stottlemeyer handed him one.

"This is the number of the hotel where we're staying. When you come to your senses, give us a call. Come on." He handed Stottlemeyer the card and left the office.

"Thank you for your time," Johnny said and followed Bruce.

Stottlemeyer sighed and sank into his desk chair.

III

"Thank you, Lt," Monk said.

"How come you brought these over yourself?" Natalie asked. "Instead of ordering some lower echelon person to do it."

"I needed to get out of the office for a bit."

"Too much energy?" Natalie asked snatching the coaster Randy was twirling in his hands.

"Yeah. Too much coffee."

"No such thing," Natalie said moving Julie's yo-yo out of Randy's reach.

"Your date must have gone well," Monk said absently as he perused the file on the Ramone homicides.

"Huh?" Randy and Natalie asked.

"Date?" Natalie added.

"Yep. And it did go well. Very well." Disher smiled.

Natalie held up her hand. "Please. No details."

"How did you know?" Randy asked Monk.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Yesterday, Mr. Smith told you to be careful with the wine. If the date had gone badly, you wouldn't be trying to keep yourself awake. Plus, you're obviously in a good mood."

"I did at least notice that," Natalie said.

Randy didn't say anything. He had a thoughtful countenance.

"What?" Natalie asked.

"I'd forgotten about that."  
"About what?"

"He told me to be careful with the wine."

"So?"

"I almost spilled a glass of wine. It could have gone across the table into her lap."

"I hardly think that would have been enough to sour the whole date," Natalie said. "And if it was, then you'd deserve someone better."

"The point is-. Thank you, Natalie."

"Yeah, well. You were saying?"

"Right. The point is why did he mention the wine?"

"I don't know. Maybe he saw your calendar on your desk."

"Or maybe he really is psychic."

"What do you think, Mr. Monk?"

"He said he has to touch something to get a vision.'

"He shook my hand."

"But he said he didn't touch anything to get his vision of a woman being hit by a van," Natalie pointed out.

Monk looked thoughtful.

"So he's lying," Natalie said.

"But what about the wine?" Disher asked.

"Oh, would you just forget about the stupid wine?"

"Randy, get someone to run a search on these suspects," Monk said handing him the file. "Look for anyone who owns a van or works in construction."

"Sure," Randy said jumping up. He almost dropped the file in his haste. "I'll let you know as soon as we're done," he called on his way to the door.

"You think the van you saw parked outside the apartment building might have something to do with the Ramone brothers' murder?" Natalie asked.

"And with the woman in Mr. Smith's vision."

"Not you, too." Natalie rolled her eyes. "I thought you didn't believe in stuff like that."

"I don't."

"So what? Mr. Smith is involved somehow?"

"That's what we have to find out."

III

"You think it's not a coincidence that these homicides occurred right after Mr. Smith told us about his vision?" Stottlemeyer asked Monk.

"Not only that. He was here either while the murders were being committed or right after," Monk said.

"So he's covering for someone," Stottlemeyer inferred. "Trying to throw us off the trail."

"It's a possibility," Monk agreed.

"Well, he gave me a number for an officer in Maine," Stottlemeyer said digging Walt's card from his pocket. "Says he helps the local department solve cases all the time."

"Want me to call him?" Natalie asked.

III

"This is Officer Bannerman. How can I help you?"

"Hi. My name is Natalie Teeger. I work on a consulting basis for the San Francisco Police Department. A man by the name of John Smith came into the offices yesterday with some information. He gave us your number in case we wanted to talk to you. Do you know a John Smith?"

"Yes, ma'am, I do. He's a good friend of mine."

"How do you know him?"  
"He helps my department solve cases now and then. Kind of like a consultant."

"How does he help?"  
"Uh, he has some unique abilities. I'm sorry, why are you calling?"

"Unique as in psychic?"  
"Look, what's this about ma'am? Is Johnny in some kind of trouble?"

"No, no. At least not that we know of yet."

"Where is he?"

"He and a Mr. Bruce Lewis are staying at a nearby hotel."

"And they're safe?"  
'Yes. As far as I know they're fine. Can you tell me about Mr. Smith's abilities?"

"Tell you what. Let me talk to Johnny, and I'll get back to you."

"Wait. Can you just answer one more question?"

"I'm listening."

"Mr. Smith said he had a vision of a woman being run over by a van. Has anything like this ever happened before?"

"Johnny has visions all the time."

"And are his visions accurate?"

"Yes. Now, I'm not answering anymore of your questions until I talk to Johnny."

"Ok. Thank you." Natalie gave Walt the number for the hotel.

III

"Well, Officer Bannerman says Johnny's for real," Natalie reported.

"He could be a plant," Monk said.

"No. He's legit," Disher said. "I looked him up in the database. He's got an impressive record. There were some write-ups in local papers questioning his methods, i. e. consulting with a psychic. I also looked up Mr. Smith." He handed some print outs to Monk and Stottlemeyer. Natalie leaned in to look at Monk's copies.

"He was in a coma for six years!" Natalie exclaimed.

"When he woke up, he started having visions," Disher said.

"So, he really could be psychic," Natalie said incredulously. "According to this, he's had all kinds of medical tests, and no one can explain his newfound abilities."

"Yeah. If this information is made up, somebody went to a hell of a lot of trouble to create a believable story," Disher said. "All this came from legitimate sources not tabloids or rags. I mean, there were articles in tabloids but-"

"We know what you mean, Randy," Stottlemeyer said.

"So what do you think, sir?" Disher asked. "Do we get him back in here?"

Stottlemeyer sighed. "Let's concentrate on our current caseload for the moment."

"But if he's legit, then someone might be murdered," Natalie insisted.

"I realize that; but until a crime is committed, my hands are tied."

"But, sir-"

"When I can spare any personnel, I'll send them down to that street corner. That's all I can do." Stottlemeyer walked away.

"Guess that'll have to be enough," Natalie said bitterly.

"He's doing everything he can," Disher said.

"If you say so."

"He's right, Natalie," Monk said.

Natalie looked at Monk and sighed. "I know."

III

"Got your doughnuts, eggs, bacon and some fruit in case we want to go healthy for some unknown reason," Bruce said setting his purchases down on the table in Johnny's hotel room.

"Thanks. I'm starving."

"Oh, and the morning paper." Bruce tossed the paper on the table and joined Johnny, who was eagerly unpacking everything.

"Wow, these are-." Johnny stopped chewing his doughnut.

"What's the matter?"

"This is her," Johnny set his doughnut down and picked up the paper. He sat down as he began reading an article on the front page. "'Ms. Vera Laney was reported missing two days ago by her neighbor. "She always tells me when she's going on a trip, be it personal or business," her neighbor Mrs. Brewster told police yesterday. "I feed her cats, you know. She just came back from a trip to Maine a few days ago and said she wouldn't be going away for another few weeks."' This is her."

"You mean _her _her?" Bruce asked sitting opposite Johnny and eating a strip of bacon. "Who is she?"

"I must have seen her and bumped into her. That would explain the vision."

"Oh, she's the her from your vision," Bruce said.

"Yes. But if I bumped into her why did it take so long to get a vision from her?"

"Maybe she was in a crowd and you bumped into a lot of other people as well. Maybe it just took a while for the visions to catch up. Or maybe she wasn't potentially in trouble yet. What I'd really like to know is how you didn't notice her when you bumped into her." Bruce took the paper from Johnny. "Mm-mm. Look at her. She's fine."

"You really need a girlfriend."  
"Tell me about it."

"You are right though," Johnny said taking the paper back. "She is fine. And I get to dream about her."

Bruce tossed a bagel at Johnny.

III

"Look, I know we're not supposed to be here," Johnny told the guard at the door of the San Francisco Police Department. "But I know this woman." He held up the paper with Vera Laney's picture on the front page.

"Do you know where she is?" the guard asked.

"I might."

"Mr. Smith! Mr. Lewis!"

Johnny and Bruce turned to see Natalie and Monk approaching them.

"It's ok," Natalie told the guard. "They're with us."

The guard studied her.

"Captain Stottlemeyer just called Monk and asked us to meet them here."

"Is that true?" the guard asked Monk.

"Uh, yes. Yes it is," Monk said briefly making eye contact with the guard.

"Ok." The guard stepped back and opened the door.

"That's not true is it?" Johnny asked Natalie once they were all inside.

"I guess you are psychic."

"Well, thank you."

Natalie smiled. "You're welcome. You should also thank Mr. Monk. He doesn't lie for just anyone."

"Well then, I'm eternally grateful, Mr. Monk."

"Oh, it was nothing. Well, it was hard and I don't think that guard really believed me. I could go back and do a better job. But then he would know for sure. Wait-"

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Bruce interrupted.

"Well,…" Natalie started.

"You looked me up," Johnny said.

"Sort of. I mean _I_ didn't. But-"

"It's ok." Johnny smiled reassuringly.

"We also called Officer Bannerman," Natalie said. "I did do that part."

"Yeah. He called yesterday and said he'd talked to you."

"Mr. Smith. Mr. Lewis," Stottlemeyer said coming out of his office.

"We let them in," Natalie explained.

"It's ok," Stottlemeyer said.

"It is?" Johnny asked.

"Yes."

"Captain," Bruce said. "I'd like to apologize for the other day. I get a little defensive when somebody dises my friends."

"Apology accepted. And I'd like to apologize for being short with you. Both of you."

"Apology accepted," Bruce said.

"Apology accepted," Johnny echoed. "The reason we're here is I know this woman." Johnny handed Stottlemeyer the paper. "Well, I don't know her. She's the woman I saw in my vision. She's the one who gets hit by the van."

"Are you sure?" Stottlemeyer asked. "Absolutely sure?"

"Yes." Johnny nodded.

"Ok. Do you have any idea where we might find her?"

"No. I can try to summon my vision and try to get more information."

"What about the van?" Monk asked. "Did you see what kind of van it was? Or who was driving it?"

"The van was a blue Suburban. I didn't get a good look at the driver. All I can tell you is he's wearing a hard hat."

"A blue hard hat?" Monk asked.

"Maybe. Like I said I didn't get a good look."

"Can you get a better look?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"Are you asking for my help?" Johnny asked.

"Yes," Stottlemeyer admitted. "Yes, I am."

"Ok. We'll have to help each other."

"What do you need?" Natalie asked.

"So far, the only times I've gotten a vision of this woman have been when I was asleep or touching that lamppost. Now, I could go back to the lamppost. Or, since I saw you in my vision, Mr. Monk, and you 're right here, I could just touch you."

"Ok. We'll meet you there," Mr. Monk said and started to walk off. "The corner of State and 4th right?"

"Mr. Monk, wait," Natalie called.

"It's ok. I fixed your mirror."

"What?"

"It was crooked, but it's ok. It's straight now."

"Ok, we'll talk about you not touching my mirrors later. But for now come back." She gestured with her hand for him to return to the rest of them.

"I don't understand. I thought we were going back to the scene."

"We don't have to," Stottlemeyer said.

"We don't?" Monk asked.

"I understand that you don't like being touched," Johnny said. "I'm not fond of being touched either. For different reasons probably."

"Definitely," Natalie said.

"But it's not like we have to hold hands or anything. I can just touch your shoulder or your sleeve. You'll barely feel my fingertips. I promise."

"Don't you want to know why you were running after that woman?" Natalie asked.

"Yes."

"I may not be able to tell you that from the lamppost," Johnny said.

"I don't know. I don't know," Monk said.

"We'll be right here with you the whole time, Monk," Stottlemeyer said.

Monk wrung his hands. "Oh."

"What's going on?" Disher asked walking in.

"Nice of you to join us, L:t.. Had a nice lunch?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"I know, I'm a little late, sir."

"An hour and a half late."

"That much?" Disher looked at his watch. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."  
"See that it doesn't."

Disher looked around at everyone. "So what did I miss?"

"The missing woman-"  
"Vera Laney," Randy said.

"Yeah. She's the woman who was in Mr. Smith's vision. He believes by touching Monk he can get a better look at the driver of the van and possibly find out what Monk was doing there."

"By 'touching' Monk, huh?"

"Yep."

Everybody turned to Monk.

Monk moaned.

"Do you have to touch him directly?" Natalie asked.

"Not necessarily," Johnny replied. "If we both hold onto the same object, it could work."

"How about this/" Disher grabbed a pen from a nearby desk.

"That would work," Johnny said.

"Not that one," Monk said. "Someone's been chewing on the cap."

"How about this one?" Disher picked up another one.

"It's over halfway out of ink. Maybe if it was exactly halfway…"

"Ok. What about this pencil?"

"The point is uneven. This will never work."

"The point is uneven?" Bruce whispered to Johnny.

Johnny raised his eyebrows.

"What if Monk sits in a chair and you touch the arm of the chair?" Stottlemeyer asked.

Johnny nodded. "I think that would be fine."

"Ok. What do you say, Monk?"

"For the case," Natalie said.

"It won't take long," Stottlemeyer promised.

Monk closed his eyes and moaned once more. "Let's get it over with."

III

AN: I'm so very sorry I took so long to update this story. I've been working on this section in the mean time and creating a Valentine game to send to some friends in China.

I realize my story is mostly dialogue, and promise more action in the future. Thanks for your patience and keep reviewing. : l Couldn't figure out how to make a smile b/c the parentheses didn't show.


	4. Chapter 4

III

"Ok, let's do this," Monk said sitting beside Johnny.

He immediately stood again.

"Ok." He sat.

"Wait." He stood.

"Ok." He sat again and wiggled in the chair. "I can't sit in this chair. It's bumpy."

"Bumpy?" Bruce asked.

"Don't ask," Stottlemeyer said. "Randy, get him a different chair."

Disher wheeled over a new chair.

While he was helping Monk switch out the chairs, Natalie whispered to Johnny, "Do it as soon as he sits down again if you don't want to be here all day."

Johnny nodded and waited for Monk to get the chair in perfect line with his own. Finally, Monk seemed ready, so Johnny put his fingers on the arm of Monk's chair.

He saw Monk that morning counting the raisins in his muffin and removing one. His vision fast-forwarded through Natalie arriving to pick Monk up and head to the station. Monk stopped to point something out on his neighbor's porch. Johnny couldn't guess what since the porch was bare. Then his vision skipped ahead.

The sun was setting. Monk and Natalie were standing on the porch of a house in the middle of a field.

Natalie knocked loudly on the door. "Maybe no one's home."

"Someone's here," Monk said. "He or she arrived recently. I can tell by those tracks." He pointed to some footprints in the sandy path leading around the side of the house. "This slight breeze is only now starting to distort them."

"Then we're at the wrong door."

They walked off the porch and followed the footprints to find the side door ajar.

"Shall we?" Natalie asked.

"She's here. I know she is."

"You sound like Johnny."

"Well, so far evidence points to this house as the most likely-"

"I didn't mean it as an insult."

They stepped into a darkened room. Monk sneezed, and Natalie waved her hand in the air. Dust swirled around.

"Wow, somebody hasn't cleaned in…longer than me."

Monk said something but his words came out muffled.

"Huh?" Natalie turned around to see he had his hand over his mouth and nose.

Monk moved his hand enough to make his words a little clearer. "If I make it out of here alive, I'm going to be sick for a week. Maybe two."

"Oh please. You'll be fine."

They stealthily moved further into the house and stopped at the entrance to a dark hall. Natalie felt along both sides of the entrance for a light switch but didn't feel one.

"I've got a penlight in my purse in the car," Natalie whispered. "But we should probably take our chances now."

"You sure?" Monk asked. "I don't mind going to get your purse."

Natalie smiled. "We'll just take it nice and slow. Give me your hand."

"What?"

"So we can stay together. Come on, you can use a whole pack of wipes afterward."

"I'd rather not."

"Ok." She took one step then another and was in pitch black. She shuffled forward with one shoulder against the wall. She stopped to let her eyes adjust. Monk bumped into her. "Careful," she hissed in a whisper.

"I thought you wanted to stick together."

"Holding hands would be easier."

"Maybe next time."

"I'll hold you to that." Her eyes having adjusted as much as they were going to, she started forward again. About seven shuffle-steps later, a board creaked, and she stopped. Again, Monk bumped into her.

"Grr."

"Sorry."

"Sh."

They waited a moment, but apparently they hadn't been heard.

"Are you sure someone's here?"

"Positive."

Natalie moved on. Suddenly, her foot sank up to her ankle.

"Ow!" she cried and bit her lip to prevent a further outburst.

"What happened?"

"My foot's stuck." She tried twisting it to pull it out. Then she knelt and groped around to learn the position of her foot and the surrounding area. "This board feels loose." She tugged on it. "If you help me pull, I think I can get my foot out."

"Ok." Monk felt his way down the wall and around Natalie's back to her side. "Where?"

"Here." Natalie found his hands and placed them on the board. "On three. One, two-"  
"By three, do you mean we pull as you say three? Or after you say three?"

"Does it matter? My ankle hurts."

"Yes. It's very important."

"Ok, ok. Pull as I say three."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! One, two, three."

They pulled together, and Natalie was able to maneuver her foot free. She sat down against the wall and rubbed her ankle.

"You ok?" Monk asked feeling his way back to the wall.

"I think so. Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"I'm gonna try to get up now." Natalie placed her hands against the wall and started to ease up. She was almost standing again when several boards broke and she fell through the floor. She landed on something hard not far under the floor with a thump, and the boards continued to fall. They landed several feet below her.

"Natalie?"

A few more pieces of broken board fell.

"Natalie?" Monk groped to his knees and leaned toward the hole. "Nat-"

"I can't move," she groaned.

"Wha-, why not?"

"I don't know. It feels like something's in my back. I think I'm bleeding."

"Stay there. I'll go see if I can get some light."

Natalie coughed.

Monk moved as fast as he could back down the hall.

Johnny's vision then focused on Natalie. She was lying on her side on a shelf hung from the ceiling of the basement. She had landed on a jagged piece of one of the broken boards. It was stuck through her heart, and there was a growing dark patch of blood on her back. Blood trickled from her mouth, and her breathing was raspy.

Johnny was catapulted back to the police station. He let go of the chair.

"Oh," Monk moaned and closed his eyes.

Both men had beads of sweat across their foreheads.

"How you doin'?" Johnny asked.

"Monk?" Stottlemeyer said when Monk didn't answer.

Monk cleared his throat. "I'm ok." He put his hands on his knees and pushed himself up.

"I need a little air."

"Ok, come on." Natalie stood and took his elbow. "Way to take one for the team," she praised as she led him out.

"He'll be ok," Disher said.

"Yeah," Stottlemeyer agreed.

Johnny leaned onto his knees and put his head in his hands.

"What about you?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"I'll be fine," Johnny said without looking up. "Just give me a minute."

"Coffee?" Disher asked Bruce.

"Yeah. Johnny/"

"No thanks."

"Aspirin?"

"No. Just a minute."

"Ok. Got it. Going away," Bruce said and followed Disher.

III

"Here's the report you asked for, Lt." A woman handed Disher a sheet of paper. "Sorry I took so long, sir. There were five people on that gun registration list who owned vans. Four of those vans were easy to locate. The fifth one proved very difficult."

Disher perused the sheet and smiled. "Thank you, Officer Williams. Good work."

"No offense," Bruce said as he and Disher took their coffees and headed back to the group. "But your friend is a little odd."

Disher laughed. "He has some strange ideas and habits, but he's the best detective I've ever met. And no offense, but your friend is a little odd too."

Bruce smiled. "Yeah, well. You gotta know him."

They joined Johnny and Stottlemeyer at the same time as Monk and Natalie.

"So, what did you see?" Natalie and Stottlemeyer asked.

Johnny recounted his vision.

"I guess it's a good thing we weren't holding hands," Monk said.

Natalie glared at him.

"You said this house was in the middle of a field?" Disher asked Johnny.

"Yes."

"Sir, we just got the report Monk asked for back. One of the listed owners of one of the vans has an address on Route 5. There's a lot of field area on Route 5."

"That could be the house Mr. Smith saw," Stottlemeyer said. "Let's check it out. Maybe we'll get lucky and find Vera Laney there."

"Really?" Bruce asked with a twinge of skepticism. "You're all of a sudden on board with this?"

"Well, it's the only lead we have at the moment."

"True."

"You said one of the owners of the van?" Monk asked Disher.

"Yeah. Apparently there's a dispute over who the actual owner is." Disher consulted the paper. "Currently, three people claim the title. Mr. Clint Simms, Mr. Anthony Malone and Mr. Tucker Vance."

"Vance as in Vance Construction Company?" Monk asked.

Disher consulted the paper again. "The same."

"Ok, Lt., contact Mr. Vance and have him come in for questioning."

"Yes, sir."

"The rest of us will proceed to that address on Route 5."

III

Six police cars drove down Route 5. Two stopped at the edge of the field corresponding to the address on the report. Two more stopped on the road at the beginning of tire tracks in the dirt path leading to the house.

Stottlemeyer's car and a second police car continued to the house.

"You're absolutely sure this is the house from your vision?" Stottlemeyer asked. "Never thought I'd ask that question."

"I told you earlier when we drove by that this is the one," Johnny said from the backseat.

"Ok." Stottlemeyer turned off the engine. He and Monk got out of the front seat, and Stottlemeyer opened the back door for Johnny, Natalie and Bruce.

Two officers got out of the other car.

"Stay outside unless we call for backup," Stottlemeyer ordered. "In the event we need backup or you hear weapons fire and can't contact us, radio the others to assist and get inside after us."

"Yes, sir," both men said.

"The footprints haven't been made yet," Monk said.

"Ok, but we'll still check it out," Stottlemeyer said.

The group bypassed the front porch and headed for the side door. Just as in Johnny's vision, it was ajar.

"Shall we?" Natalie asked.

AN: Thanks for the wonderful reviews.


	5. Chapter 5

"Remember to be careful, Natalie," Monk said. "You don't want to-"

"I know. I know."

"This is the San Francisco Police Department," Stottlemeyer shouted into the house. "We have evidence that someone at this address may have been involved in a double homicide. We've got a warrant."

They waited a minute or two, and then Stottlemeyer repeated his statement a little louder.

After another two minutes of no response, Stottlemeyer said, "Ok, let's go. Monk, you're after me."

They quietly trooped inside.

"Whoa," Monk said and covered his mouth and nose.

Stottlemeyer headed toward the hall with his flashlight. Natalie tagged along.

"Why didn't you warn us about the dust?" Monk asked Johnny.

"I didn't think it was that important," Johnny said.

"Not important? If this stuff gets into your lungs, oh boy."

"I'm sorry. I'll never overlook dust in a vision again," Johnny said mock-seriously.

"Good," Monk said as Bruce shook his head and smiled.

"Did you see any clues to Vera Laney's whereabouts?" Stottlemeyer asked Johnny as he and Natalie returned to the kitchen.

"No, but I could try again," Johnny answered glancing at Monk.

"Monk?" Stottlemeyer asked.

Before Monk could answer, one of the officers from outside called to Stottlemeyer.

"Sir, there's been an accident on the interstate. At least five cars were involved. The department is calling for all nearby units to respond."

"Ok, go. Nobody's home. We'll do a quick search then leave. But before you go, move my car way into the field. Just in case."

"Yes, sir."

"Are you sure?" Monk asked.

"Yeah."

"What about the basement?" Natalie asked. "You said I landed on a shelf or something."

"Yeah. I there could be something there," Johnny said.

"That's a start. Let's find the basement," Stottlemeyer said.

"What about the hallway?" Monk asked.

"We didn't see anything worth checking into," Natalie said.

"There were two bedrooms and a bathroom. None look suspicious," Stottlemeyer added.

Johnny glanced around the kitchen and went to a door. "This could lead to the basement."

"Or a pantry," Natalie said.

Stottlemeyer opened the door, and everyone stared. "Now, I know I've got a few unusual tastes, but my pantry looks nothing like this."

The shelves contained boxes and boxes of steel wool pads and gallon jugs of water. There was an open box of cereal on one shelf. Three mops hung on the inside of the door, and buckets were under the shelves. On the top shelf was a row of empty jars.

"This guy's got some serious roughage in his diet," Bruce quipped.

Natalie snorted, and Johnny laughed.

Stottlemeyer tried to hide a smile.

"What do you suppose those jars are for?" Monk asked.

"I don't know if I want to know," Johnny said closing the door.

Suddenly, Johnny saw a muscular man with long, dirty hair enter the kitchen.

Johnny and the others stopped in mid-argument when the man asked, "What the hell's going on here? Who are you people?"

"Who are you?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"This is my house. I ask the questions."

"Ok. My name is Captain Leland Stottlemeyer. I'm with the San Francisco Police Department." He showed the man his badge. "We have evidence that may put you at the scene of a double homicide."

"'May' put me? Anything proof enough to be in my house?"

"Attempts were made to contact you. Procedures were followed. I have a warrant." Stottlemeyer handed the man the warrant.

The man glanced at the paper. "I'm supposed to believe this is real?"

"Oh, it's real."

"How do I know?"

"Read it."

"He can't read, Leland," Monk muttered.

"Are you sure?"  
"Course I can read," the man snapped.

"But not much," Monk said.

"That's none of your business. Now, all of you get out of my house."

"Well-"

"Let it go, Monk," Stottlemeyre said. "We have a warrant, sir. If you prevent us from searching your house you could be charged with impeding an investigation."

"_You _may be a cop; but what about the rest of you?"

"Mr. Monk is a detective working as a consultant to my department."

"And I'm his assistant," Natalie said.

"What about you two?"

"Mr. Smith is also a consultant," Stottlemeyer said.

"And I'm his assistant," Bruce said.

"You all must think I'm real stupid."

"Of course not," Natalie patronized.

"_You _can stay," the man said pointing to Stottlemeyer. "The rest of you get out."

"Monk stays too, or I call for backup," Stottlemeyer countered.

The man thought about that. "Ok."

"Wait in the car," Stottlemeyer said to Natalie, Johnny and Bruce.

"Johnny?"

"Mr. Smith?"

Johnny came back to the present. "Somebody's coming."

"Who?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"He didn't say his name. He came in and found us. You told him why we were here. He said you could stay, but the rest of us had to go. You said Monk had to stay too or you'd call for backup."

"How much time do we have?" Bruce asked.

Johnny looked at the clock on the wall above Monk's head. "About ten minutes."

"Ten minutes!" Natalie exclaimed.

"Can we search the basement and get out of here in ten minutes?" Bruce asked. "And what if we don't find anything down there?"

"He's right," Natalie said. "We can't search the rest of the house too."

"There's not much else to the house. We already looked in the hall. I don't see anything in here that looks suspicious. Just a little strange. But, then again, your entire house is strange," Stottlemeyer said of Monk. "That leaves the living room and the basement. We could split up, but there's no time. So, the basement is-"

"But what if you overlooked something in the hall?" Monk asked. "What if what we're looking for is in a closet or a desk?"

"_What _are we looking for?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"I don't know."

"Exactly. Even if we knew and even if we split up, we still don't have time."

"I don't think we should split up," Monk said. "Especially Natalie."

"What if we go in teams?" Bruce asked. "One person searches; the other plays look out."

"Yeah," Natalie said.

"There are five of us," Monk said.

"So one team has two searchers," Natalie said.

"Or two look outs," Bruce said. "Although two people searching would make things go faster."

"Not fast enough," Johnny said.

"Agreed," Stottlemeyer said. "The basement is the best chance, and-"

"At least let me glance down the hall," Monk said.

"Monk, we've got even less time now. Besides, I need you to be the one to look into the basement. You'll see more than any of us even in just a quick scan."

"I know, but-"

"Mr. Monk, we're running out of time."

"I know, but-"

"Monk!"

"This is why we were caught!" Johnny shouted.

"Right," Stottlemeyer said. "There's a door just around the corner. Let's go."

"Yep, this is it," Stottlemeyer said when he opened the other door and saw a flight of stairs leading down.

"Ok." Monk leaned into the room.

Stottlemeyer aimed his flashlight down the stairs with one hand and felt for a light switch with the other hand. "There you go," he said flipping the switch.

"Captain," Monk said immediately and pointed.

"What?" Natalie and Bruce asked.

"Oh my god," Johnny said peering over Stottlemeyer's shoulder.

"We found her," Stottlemeyer said surprised. "Looks like you were right, Mr. Smith."

On a bed against a wall sat Vera Laney. She was chained to the wall and had tape over her mouth. She appeared to be unconscious.

AN: I know this chapter is a little short, but the next chapter will be up within the next few days. I promise.


	6. Chapter 6

"Thank you for coming in, Mr. Vance," Lt. Disher said.

"Anything I can do to help. I still can't believe they're dead."

"You knew them well?"

"They were like brothers."

"Do you have any idea who could want them dead?"

"No. They were nice to everybody; always did their work; showed up on time."

"Did you know them outside of work?"

"We hung out sometimes. We went to the same places for dinner and shopping a lot. I saw them a great deal outside of work. Practically everyday. They always stopped to say hi and chat a bit."

"Did they have many friends?"

"They mostly seemed to keep to themselves until recently."

"Could you elaborate?" Randy asked leaning forward.

"Well, they'd hang out with the guys from work sometimes. They've had parties now and then. When I see them outside of work it's usually just the two of them. Well, was. I'm sorry. I just can't believe they're gone." Tucker Vance lowered his head.

"It's ok," Randy said sitting back to give him some space across the table. "Take your time." He pushed the stop button on the tape recorder.

"Thank you. I'm good."

"You sure?"

Vance nodded, and Disher pushed record.

"Lately, they've been hanging around Charlie and Spin."

"Charlie and Spin?"

"Charlie Miller and Spin Cooley. I don't know his real name. Spin was the name on his application and on the background check we ran before hiring him."

"Both of these men work for you?"  
"Yes. Charlie's been with me since the beginning. We knew each other growing up. Spin came along about three years ago. He's a good worker. I don't have any complaints about his work."

"What about his character?"

"I can't put my finger it, but there's just something about him that creeps me out."

"Do you think he could have been involved in the Ramone brothers' murders?"

"I don't want to accuse him just because I don't personally like him that much."

"I'm not asking you to do that, Mr. Vance. I'm just asking if you think he may be capable."

"Capable, sure. He got the name Spin because he can apparently send a man spinning into the ground with just one punch."

"We may want to question him."

"Now wait a minute, I told you I don't want to insinuate-."

"We're investigating a crime. That means we need to speak with everyone involved in the lives of the victims. That's why we're talking to you. That's why we'll want to question Charlie and Spin and anyone else on your staff."

"Ok. As long as you make them understand that."

"We won't mention your name."

"I'm not worried about my name being mentioned. I just don't want them thinking that I accused them. Because I truly believe in innocent until proven guilty. And I don't believe someone's past should be held against him."

"We'll make sure they understand that. What do you mean about someone's past? Does one of your workers have a record?"

"Spin's done time for fightin'. To my knowledge, he's never killed anyone. Just before he started working for me, he'd served six months for puttin' somebody in the hospital with a few broken ribs and a concussion."

"Do you know what the fight was about?"  
"Didn't ask. Like I said-"

"You don't hold a man's past against him. That's admirable."

"It's decent. We all make mistakes. But I believe we can all change if given a chance."

"There's another reason we asked you to come in, Mr. Vance. We have your name listed as owner of a blue Suburban." He showed Vance a picture of the van and it's license plate. "Is this yours?"

Tucker Vance nodded. "Yes. I use it for work."

"Are you the only one who drives it?"

"No. Charlie drives it a lot. Probably more than me since I had knee surgery a few months ago and have been working out of the office more."

"Does Spin ride with him?"

"Probably. Those two are almost inseparable."

III

"What do we do?" Natalie asked.

"We came to find her," Monk said as he started down the stairs. "We did. Now we have to take her home."

"Wait," Stottlemeyer said grabbing Monk's shoulder. "She may not be able to be moved."

"Yeah," Natalie said. "Who knows what's been done to her."

"Poor woman," Bruce said. "Uh oh," he said turning his head.

"Company?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"Yep."

"We gotta get out of here," Natalie said.

"He comes in through the kitchen," Johnny said.

"Front door," Natalie said.

"Wait a minute. You want to know your connection to her," Johnny said to Monk. "And you want to know what's going on here," he said to Stottlemeyer. "Now's your chance."

"I'm guessing he's not going to be too eager to answer questions," Natalie said.

"Not confronted by five people," Bruce added.

"Unless he only finds one of us," Stottlemeyer said.

"Exactly," Johnny said.

"What about the rest of us?" Natalie asked.

"We've got a warrant," Stottlemeyer said. "We search. We'll be down the hall," he said to Monk as he turned out the basement light and led the others away.

"I-I can't-"

"Yes you can." Stottlemeyer patted Monk's shoulder and left.

"Good luck," Natalie mouthed as she disappeared into one of the rooms.

Monk turned as a man with long, dirty hair came out of the kitchen.

"Hey, who are you?"

"Um. I, uh."

"You Leon's man?"

"Leon?"  
The man smiled. "Right. Not supposed to know who he is. I got your stuff down here."

The man turned on the basement light and headed down the stairs.

Monk stayed where he was. He saw that the door to the room the others were in was open slightly and Stottlemeyer was peeking out. He gestured for Monk to follow the man.

Monk descended the stairs, carefully moving around a stain on one step.

The man was pulling boxes out of a closet. He took a briefcase out of one box and another briefcase out of another box. He set the briefcases in front of Monk and started replacing the boxes in the closet.

"It's all here?" Monk asked trying to sound authoritative as he examined the briefcases for imperfections.

"Have I ever stiffed Leon?" the man asked sounding offended.

"No," Monk answered quickly. "No, of course not. Just routine you know." He smiled.

The man smiled back. "In case something _is _missing, you can say you did your job. So it wouldn't be your fault."

Monk nodded still smiling. "Exactly."

The man's smile left. "Same here. You be sure and tell Leon that."

"I will."

"You can go ahead and double check me if you want. I won't take no offense."

Monk thought the man's countenance said otherwise. "No, no. I trust you. After all, you and Leon seem to have a good relationship."

The man snorted. "Best relationship I've ever had with somebody I've never met. Never even seen the guy. If Leon is a guy."

"Well, you know Leon. Always secretive. Actually, I guess you don't. Well, you do know about the secretive part."

The man was staring at him.

"I'll just go now."

"Leon needs anything else, tell him just let me know," the man said, all business.

"Ok." Monk grabbed the briefcases and turned to go but turned back. "What about the girl?"

The man glanced at Vera Laney. "He don't get her 'til Friday. That was deal."

Monk nodded. "Right." He turned to go again when the woman started convulsing.

"Oh, not again," the man complained. "Give me a hand." He grabbed a syringe from a file cabinet and went to Vera. "Hold her still."

Monk did his best. Her eyes were open, and she was whimpering. She turned a pleading look on Monk.

"Keep her still!"

Monk didn't know what to do. He wanted to help but didn't know how at the moment. All he could do was hold her.

The man injected the syringe, and she went limp.

"What happened?" Monk asked shakily.

"It's the vitrolsa. We still haven't worked out all the bugs."

"You're testing it on her?" Monk exclaimed.

"Hey, she agreed to it. She wants her husband back unharmed; she's a lab rat."

"That was the deal, all right."

"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't mention this to Leon. You know how he hates things to go behind schedule."

"Ok," Monk said dazedly.

"You can see yourself out? I got stuff to do down here."

"Yeah." Mechanically, Monk retrieved the briefcases and left the basement.

III

Stottlemeyer saw Monk come out of the basement and stop. "Let's go." He went to Monk and guided him gently out of the house as the others followed quietly. "You ok?" he asked Monk when they reached the car in the middle of the field.

"They're testing a drug on her."

"What?" Natalie exclaimed.

"She agreed to let them do it in order to get her husband back. We need to get her out of there. The drug is making her sick," Monk said desperately.

"Ok, ok," Stottlemeyer said soothingly. "We will. Did you find out where her husband is?"

"No. I didn't find out who that man is either. But this stuff is for a guy named Leon. It's probably not his real name though."

Stottlemeyer nodded. "Let's get back to the station. We'll see what we can do."

III

"Mr. Vance was very helpful," Lt. Disher informed Stottlemeyer and the others when they returned to the station. "At least with giving us a lead or two. We're running background checks on two of his employees now. He wasn't much help with the van situation. He had no idea there were two other people who claimed ownership."

"Do you think he was telling the truth?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Ok. Run a search for the name Leon. It's probably an alias but check anyway."

"Yes, sir." Randy turned to leave then turned back. "Oh, did you find the missing woman?"

"Yes, we did."

"Good. Is she ok?"

"We don't know for sure yet."

"Oh." Randy left to run a search for Leon.

"Captain, we are going back to get her, right?" Monk asked.

"Yes. You two will have to stay here this time though," Stottlemeyer said to Johnny and Bruce. "It may be a good idea for you to stay behind as well, Natalie. I've got a phone call to make first, then we'll go."

"Going to get a drug unit out there?" Monk asked.

"Yep."

III

Stottlemeyer, Monk and Natalie arrived at the address on Route 5 along with an ambulance and two cars carrying a drug investigating team comprised of four men and two women.

"We'll go in first," Stottlemeyer informed the team indicating himself, Monk and two EMTs."

"We'll be on your six," Lt. Connors said. He turned to his team and gave instructions on the order they would enter the house.

"This is the San Francisco Police Department," Stottlemeyer announced as he entered the house through the open side door. "Come out with your hands where we can see them."

He and Monk stood in the kitchen with the drug unit behind them.

"Anybody home?" Stottlemeyer shouted.

"His car's still here," Monk said.

"If he's here, he knows we're here," Stottlemeyer said and proceeded to the basement.

Monk and Stottlemeyer stopped at the top of the basement stairs.

"Hello," Stottlemeyer called.

"There," Monk pointed to the file cabinet the man had gotten the syringe from earlier. Poking out from behind the cabinet was the tip of a shoe. It took Stottlemeyer a second to see it. He slowly descended the stairs with Monk and the EMTs behind him.

"Oh!" Monk exclaimed when he saw the body. The man had been stabbed at least five times that Monk could see. Blood caked his shirt and was pooled around him.

Stottlemeyer stepped back to let the EMTs through.

"He's dead, sir," one of the men said.

"All right," Stottlemeyer said with a sigh. "Get him out of here. We'll go tell the drug unit to move in. Then we'll search the rest of the house for Vera Laney."

III

"What do you mean, she wasn't there?" Natalie asked.

"She wasn't in the basement," Monk said. "She wasn't anywhere in the house."

"So where is she?"

"We don't know."

"Who was the man?" Johnny asked.

"Mr. Anthony Malone," Lt. Disher said joining them.

"One of the men claiming to own the van?" Natalie asked.

"Yep. That just leaves one owner still unaccounted for."

"Clint Simms," Monk said.

"Yep," Randy said again certain that Monk was right even though he didn't remember the name himself.

"Have the two employees of Mr. Vance been located yet?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"We've tried to contact them by phone and sent people to their homes when we got no answer but no one was home."

"We'll find them soon," Stottlemeyer said.

"How do you know, sir?" Disher asked.

"I've put out a warrant for Spin Cooley's arrest. His DNA was found on Mr. Malone."

"Do you think Vera Laney's with him?" Monk asked.

"We'll know when we find him," Stottlemeyer said.

AN: Here's the next chapter as promised. The story's almost done. Thanks for the great reviews! Keep 'em coming.


	7. Chapter 7

"Captain!" Disher burst into Stottlemeyer's office the next morning, coffee mug in hand. "We finally found the third guy claiming ownership of the blue Suburban."

Stottlemeyer yawned. "That's great. Has he been contacted?"

"Don't you want to know why it took so long to locate him?"

Stottlemeyer sighed. "You're going to tell me anyway aren't you?"

"Well, not if you really don't want to know, sir. I mean, I'll tell you only what is pertinent to this case. Although, the rest is somewhat interesting."

"Ok."

"It's not like I went to a whole lot of trouble-"

"Randy! Just tell me."

"Ok." Randy sat down in front of the desk and leaned forward excitedly. "Well, this guy's got a pretty colorful past. And, when I say colorful, I mean-"

"Randy, it's 6:15 in the morning."

"Right. Sorry, sir."

"Another good night?"

"Great night."

"I'm happy for you."

Randy paused and swallowed. "Thank you, sir."

"I mean it. I really am happy for you. You put in a lot of time here; you deserve to have a life on the outside."

Randy was taken aback. "Wow. Um."

"Can I give you a little advice?"

"Of course, sir. That would be great."

"Treat her well. Pay attention to her. Remember her birthday and other important dates."

"Things not going so well with Karen?"

Stottlemeyer sighed and scrubbed his face. "Nope. She won't even talk to me. I thought maybe if I went ahead and signed the divorce papers, she might at least talk or let me talk."

"I'm sorry, sir. I wish there was something I could do."

Stottlemeyer waved a dismissive hand. "I screwed things up. I'm the one who has to try to fix them."

"Well, if you ever need to talk…"

"Thank you, Randy."

They sat in silence for a minute.

"The third 'owner' of the van?" Stottlemeyer asked finally. "Clint Simms was it?"

"Yes, sir. It took a long time to find him because we were looking for the wrong person. See, Clint Simms isn't his real name. Well, I guess it could be. He's got at least two other names, so who knows what his real name is. He also goes by Dean Carter and Eddie Oliver. He may have more than one name, but he uses the same cell phone. The same number was on the title for the Suburban and on the registration for his gun. If the names Clint Simms and Dean Carter hadn't shown up so close in the list, I might never have made the connection."

"Good work, Lt. What about the third name?"

"Clint Simms was the name listed as a reference on a job application for Dean Carter."

Stottlemeyer chuckled. "He put himself as a reference. Why didn't I ever think of that?"

"Yeah, he was sure to put in a good word for himself."

"Did he actually put the same cell phone number twice on the application?"

"Yes, sir. He did. I guess he counted on no one noticing."

"Lucky for him there aren't very many Adrian Monks in the world. What job was he applying for?"

"You're going to love this He was applying for a position at Oliver Enterprises."

"Oliver Enterprises. As in Eddie Oliver Enterprises?"

"Yep."

"And what is Oliver Enterprises?"

"A shipping company. Here's a list of the things they ship."

Stottlemeyer scanned the paper Disher handed him. "Variety is certainly the spice of life," he muttered.

"Sir?"

"This list includes everything from used furniture to insurance plans and pharmaceuticals."

"Oh, there's one other thing." Disher handed him another sheet of paper. "They recently made a shipment of cleaning supplies and lab equipment to one Marcus A. Malone. A as in Anthony."

"I doubt that's all they delivered."

III

"Any word on Vera Laney yet?" Monk asked.

"Good morning to you too, Monk," Stottlemeyer said.

"Morning, Captain."  
"Morning, Natalie."

"Good morning. Any-"  
"Not yet. Randy's got some intel though."

Randy brought them up to speed.

"Leon," Monk muttered.

"Monk?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"Clint Simms is Leon."

"How do you know that?" Randy asked.

"He took the letters from his names. L from Clint, e from Eddie, o from Oliver and n from Dean."

"I don't know, Monk," Stottlemeyer said.

"If we find him, we find Vera Laney. I'm sure of it, Leland."

"I'm not doubting you. I'm just not sure about the name thing."

"I know it sounds too easy, but it makes sense."

"Why two letters from the same name?"

"I don't know. Maybe he has a fourth alias."

'I can check, sir. He could be right. I mean, the guy did put the same cell phone number in two places on the same application."

"And applied to his own company," Natalie added.

Stottlemeyer thought everything over. "Do it."

"Were you able to find Mrs. Laney's husband?" Monk asked as Randy moved away.

"Yes," he replied stopping to shuffle through some papers. "His name is Jake Newman, and guess where he works."

"Oliver Enterprises," everyone else said.

III

"You ok/" Natalie asked Monk as she drove to Oliver Enterprises.

"Hmm? Oh yeah. I'm fine."

"You're kind of quiet. Plus, you haven't said anything about my new decoration." She pointed to a pair of red and white dice hanging from the rearview mirror. "Julie and Samantha thought they were cool, so I bought them."

"They look nice," Monk said and turned to look out the window.

Natalie glanced at him. "Ok, what's wrong?"  
"Why do you say-?"  
"Because the dice are uneven."

Monk studied the dice. "Oh." He adjusted the strings so they were hanging evenly. "That's better."

"Tell me what's going on with you or I'll put them back the way they were."

"You wouldn't do that." Monk said with an uncertain smile.

"Oh yeah?" Natalie reached for the dice.

"Ok, ok." Monk held up his hands. "That's not funny," he said when he was sure Natalie's hand was firmly on the wheel again.

"I know. I'm sorry. But you're kind of scaring me."

"I was just thinking about what the Captain said."

Natalie waited quietly for him to continue.

"He didn't want to believe me about Leon. I think he thinks I'm trying too hard to see something because I want to find Vera Laney so much."

"Why _do_ you want to find her so much? I mean, I know she needs help, and you're job is to help her. And I'm sure you want to help her. But it seems like there's more to this woman than other people we've helped."

"Because of what she's doing for her husband. She's going through so much to protect him."

Natalie sensed there was something else he wanted to say and held her breath.

Monk turned to the window again, not really seeing anything beyond it. After a deep sigh, he said, "Trudy would have done that for me."

III

"Nothing?" Bruce asked.

Johnny rested his head against the lamppost and sighed. "I feel so useless." He pushed away from the post.

Bruce moved to lean his back against the post, stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched his friend pace the sidewalk. "Why don't you take a break? We've been here for over an hour, and you skipped breakfast. Let's go grab a bite. You can clear your head for a while."

Johnny shaded his eyes and looked at the post. "Maybe after one more try."

As he reached the post, Bruce grabbed him and steered him toward the street. "You said that last time."

"I know, but-"

"There's a café over there." Bruce pointed across the street. "We'll sit outside, and you can stare at that post 'til your eyes pop out of your head as long as you're resting and getting something in your gut. Therapist's orders."

Johnny studied his friend for a moment then stepped onto the street. "You're not my therapist anymore," he said petulantly.

"Got you to move though didn't I?"

Johnny didn't answer, but stopped in the middle of the street.

"Johnny?"

"_Stay away from me!" Vera Laney shrieked and ran._

"_Wait!" Monk cried and started after her. "You don't understand."_

_The woman rounded the building, ran into the street and was hit by the Suburban._

_Johnny looked into the vehicle as it kept going._

_Vera was moaning on the ground. Johnny knelt and touched her cheek. Her neck was broken, one arm was shattered and the blood all over the front of her shirt almost obscured the words _Oliver Enterprises.

"_Somebody call an ambulance," Monk shouted rushing over._

_Vera Laney stopped moaning, and her head rolled to one side._

_Johnny felt for a pulse. "We're too late."_

"Johnny!" Bruce was tugging on Johnny's arm.

Horns were blaring. Drivers were shouting.

"I saw them," Johnny said.

"Saw who?"

"The men in the van. I got a good, clear look at both of them."

A horn blasted in Bruce's ear. "Get out of the damn street!"

"Come on," Bruce said pulling Johnny toward the sidewalk.

"We have to go to the police station."

"Right now, we have to get out of the middle of the street."

III

"Here we are." Natalie parked in front of Oliver Enterprises.

She and Monk approached the glass door. The blinds were closed, but the door was unlocked.

Inside, there were two desks facing each other across the small room. The desks were neat and orderly. Each had a lamp in a far corner, a stack of catalogues in the near corner and a schedule book and receipt book in the middle. Each desk also had a container of pens, a phone and a computer. Under each desk was a trashcan.

There was a small table near a door at the back of the room. On this table was a printer/fax machine.

In each front corner of the room, a small tree stood in front of the window.

"This isn't Oliver Enterprises," Monk said.

"This is the address from the database."

"Oliver Enterprises may be at this address, but it's not in this room. This room is just for show. A façade."

"How do you figure?"

"Look at the desks."

"Maybe they value neatness. You can certainly identify."

"But everything is too neat."

Natalie gave him a sidelong glance. "That's something I _never _expected to hear from you."

Ignoring her comment, Monk explained. "The desks are exact mirror images."

"So?"

"So there's nothing personal about the arrangement of the things on them. For instance." He walked past Natalie to the desk on the left. "Look at the contents of this container."

"A blue pen, two black ones, a red one and a pencil."

"Now look at that container." He pointed across the room.

"A blue pen, two black ones, a red one and a pencil."

"With the blue pen facing the wall, the black pens on either side, and the red pen and the pencil facing out. The pen on the right; the pencil on the left."

"Just like that one," Natalie said awestruck, pointing to the container by Monk.

"Even if two people were required to be this neat and orderly, it's unlikely that each person would arrange his or her writing implements in the exact same order."

"Or have their computers pointing in the exact same angle."

"Right."

"I knew you'd rub off on me eventually," Natalie congratulated herself.

"Notice the stack of catalogues."

"The same one's on top."

"Not only that. The catalogues under the top one are in the same order."

"You're right. If two people were trying to look the same to the public, they'd at least have the same catalogue on top, but they wouldn't necessarily worry about the rest of the stack."

"Exactly."

"Because nobody would notice. Well, you would, but you're not like most people."

"Right. So to the normal public eye this just looks like a very neat and orderly office."

"With no one working today apparently."

Monk walked to the door in the back and put his ear to it.

"What?"

"I thought I heard something."

Natalie knocked. "Hello!"

There was no answer.

Natalie knocked again. "Hello. We'd like some service please. We're paying customers."

"We don't have anything to order or to ship," Monk whispered.

"Relax. I'll make something up," Natalie whispered back.

When there was still no answer, Natalie tried the knob. "It's unlocked.

She eased the door open.

"You're sure you heard something?"

"Yeah," Monk said confused as he stared at the brick wall. He touched the wall. "It's fake."

"What?" Natalie touched the wall. "Feels like brick."

"All the lines of cement are even. Each brick looks exactly the same."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "You know, containers of pens is one thing, but-"  
Monk tapped the wall. "That's not what a brick wall should sound like."

Natalie tapped the wall. "Or feel like. It's fake."

III

Monk and Natalie arrived at the police station at the same time as Johnny and Bruce.

They all walked in together, and Randy rushed over to them.

Randy, Natalie and Johnny spoke at once.

"Jake Newman is the same man as Eddie Oliver and the others," Randy said.

"Something's going on at Oliver Enterprises," Natalie said.

"I can identify the men in the Suburban," Johnny said.

"What?" everyone asked.

"What?" Stottlemeyer asked joining them.

Randy, Natalie and Johnny repeated themselves one at a time.

"Well," Stottlemeyer said. "Looks like Oliver Enterprises has been busy. I got a call not too long ago from the complaints department. Several people have called in this morning about shipments that haven't shown up. Important shipments apparently."

"They suspect we're onto them, and they're hiding," Monk said.

"Probably getting ready to skip town," Bruce added.

"Probably," Stottlemeyer agreed with both men.

"Well, let's get over there," Natalie said.

"And accuse them of what?" Stottlemeyer asked. "The only solid lead we have is they've been missing shipments. We can't arrest anybody for that. And for that matter, who would we arrest?"  
"Leon," Monk said.

"For what?" Stottlemeyer said. "Besides, we can't prove who Leon is."

Everyone stood silently.

"Randy, take Mr. Smith to where he can identify the men in the Suburban."

"Yes, sir. This way."

Johnny followed Disher.

"I was wrong," Monk said to himself.

"Huh?" Natalie asked.

"I'm right, but I was wrong."

"What?" Bruce asked.

"I'm right about Leon, but I was wrong about how he formed the name.

Bruce, Natalie and Stottlemeyer exchanged looks.

"He took one letter from each name. The L from Clint, the e from Dean, the o from Oliver and the n from Newman."

"What if he has more than four names?" Stottlemeyer asked.

Monk looked at him. "That would be uneven."

Stottlemeyer chuckled and went back to his office.

III

"You're positive?" Disher asked Johnny.

"Those are the guys."

"Ok. I'll go inform the Captain."

Johnny headed back to join the others. He stopped when he saw Bruce and Natalie laughing together. Johnny sighed. He hated to spoil their fun.

"Hey," he called.

"Hey," Natalie said.

"Find the guys?" Bruce asked.

"Yep." Johnny stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"And," Bruce said.

"Charlie Miller and Spin Cooley."

"They guys who murdered Anthony Malone?" Natalie asked.

"The same. Where's Mr. Monk?"  
Natalie pointed. Monk was busily straightening the various papers and photos on a bulletin board. He was arranging them in straight rows and columns then double and triple checking for straightness.

Johnny raised his eyebrows.

"It helps him relax," Natalie explained. "Mr. Monk."

He was too engrossed to hear her.

"I'll go get him."

Johnny sat on Bruce's other side. "So." He smiled teasingly. "When's the big day?"

"Big day?"

"The wedding. I want to check my calendar. Make sure I'm free."  
"Ha ha." Bruce glanced at Natalie.

She was helping Monk finish the last section of the bulletin board, and he was busily adjusting her efforts.

"She nice. And funny."  
"But."

"Did you know she has a kid? Julie. Eleven years old. Very pretty."

"Hey, what are you worried about? You're great with kids."

"I just don't think it would work out. I mean, she lives here. I live across the country. She's not gonna want to move the kid. Not that I'd ask her to."

"You could move here."

"You tryin' to get rid of me?"  
"Now that you mention it."

"We are at least going out for coffee after all this is over."

"Good."

They watched Monk push Natalie's hands away and straighten a photo.

"She couldn't leave him either," Johnny quipped.

"Yeah, without us assistants, you guys wouldn't survive."

"Us guys?" Johnny asked in mock offense.

"Who had to prevent your ass from becoming road kill not too long ago?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"The Captain wants you in his office," Disher said approaching. He pointed over his shoulder as he continued on to Natalie and Monk.

AN: Sorry it took me so long to update. My sinuses are partly to blame. The rest falls squarely on the shoulders of procrastination.

That said, I promise to try my utmost to finish this story over the weekend.

As always thank you for the great reviews. Enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8

When everyone was gathered in his office, Stottlemeyer said, "I just got a call from Tucker Vance. One of his employees didn't show up for work today, and he's worried. He's seen this guy with Spin, Charlie and the Ramone brothers recently."

"What's his name?" Disher asked.

"Tom Bennett."

"I haven't run across that name in any of my searches."

There was a knock, and a Sergeant opened the door. "Mr. Vance, sir."

"Thank you. Come in, Mr. Vance. This is the team that's been working on this case. I believe you've met Lt. Disher. This is Adrian Monk, Natalie Teeger, John Smith and Bruce Lewis."

"Thank you," Vance said as he accepted the chair Disher offered him.

"Now, tell us about this employee," Stottlemeyer said.

"Well, his name is Tom Bennett. He's very reliable. That's why I'm worried. You see, he took a couple of days off so he could get married and have a honeymoon. He said he'd be back Wednesday morning. But when he hadn't shown up by noon, I got worried."

"You've seen him with Spin and Charlie recently?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"Yes."

"How often?"

"Just once or twice. I think they were arguing the last time I saw them together."

"Why do you say that?" Monk asked.

"I thought I heard them shouting; but when I entered the area, they stopped talking."

"Did you hear anything they said?" Natalie asked.

"No. We were on a job site with equipment going in the background."

"Convenient," Bruce said.

"How long ago was that?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"About a week and a half. I wasn't even supposed to be there. As I told Lt. Disher, since my knee surgery, I've been working more in the office. But Tom called me. Said there was something I needed to clarify. Then, when I got there and asked him about it, he said it was a false alarm. I don't think he was telling me the truth though."

"Why not?" Monk asked.

"He kept glancing at the van where Spin and Charlie were."

"You think they threatened him to keep him quiet?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"Maybe. I went over the specs for that project, and everything was fine, if a little odd. But the client approved the specs before construction commenced. I always make certain of that. I also try to please the client no matter how odd I think their requests are. As long as I don't have to violate code of course."

"What sort of odd things did this client request?" Monk asked.

"Well, he didn't want windows in any of the rooms. He said most of the rooms were going to be medical labs. You'd think even lab workers might want to look outside sometimes, but he was adamant. Another odd thing was he didn't want any doors on any or the rooms. The only door he wanted in the whole place was the front door. The weirdest thing of all was the faux brick wall he wanted along the back wall of the entire building."

"Can you tell us this client's name?" Monk asked.

"Uh, let me think. Something like Carson maybe. Or-"

"Dean Carter?" Disher asked.

Vance snapped his fingers. "Yes. That was it."

"One more question," Stottlemeyer said. "How often did you see Tom Bennett with the Ramone brothers?"

"All the time until after his argument with Spin and Charlie."

"What happened?" Monk asked.

"Well, it seemed like every time he got near them, Spin or Charlie or both of them would show up and Tom would shy away. It was almost like he was trying to tell them something, but Spin and Charlie kept stopping him. Probably not coincidence them showing up every time, huh?"  
"No," Monk and Stottlemeyer said.

"Thank you, Mr. Vance," Stottlemeyer continued, shaking the man's hand. "We'll do what we can to find him."

"Thank you, Captain. All of you," Mr. Vance said and left.

"OK," Stottlemeyer said rubbing his hands together.

"I know where he is," Monk said.

"I was hoping so," Stottlemeyer said leaning on the front of his desk. "Please."  
"Here's what happened. Tom Bennett knew Leon was going to kill the Ramone brothers. He tried to warn them, but Spin and Charlie wouldn't let him. On the morning Leon planned to commit the murder, Tom went to their apartment building. He had to hide in the bushes because he saw Spin and Charlie, so he knew they'd told Leon about him, and Leon had told them to watch him. "

_Tom peered around the apartment building the morning of the Ramone brothers' murder. Seeing the blue Suburban, he ducked into the bushes._

"To throw Tom off, Leon went ahead of schedule. Not knowing Leon was already inside their apartment, Tom threw rocks from the graveled patio at their window to get their attention."

_Tom threw a handful of rocks at a window on the second floor._

"He probably had to blow his cover to do so. Then he ran, and Spin and Charlie followed him. After murdering the Ramone brothers, Leon retrieved the rocks and replaced them on his way back to his car."

_Tom ran, but didn't get far. Charlie slowed the van, and Spin got out, punched Tom, and dragged him into the van._

_Inside the apartment, Leon stepped over the bodies, retrieved the rocks and left._

"So he's probably with Spin and Charlie at Oliver Enterprises?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"If he's still alive," Bruce said.

"If he's still alive," Stottlemeyer agreed.

"Why did Leon murder the Ramone brothers?" Johnny asked.

"They probably knew something and were going to blow the whistle," Monk said.

"I'm sure everyone figured out the place Dean Carter was having built," Natalie said.

"The building behind Oliver Enterprises," Bruce supplied.

"Which is only a few streets away from where my vision takes place," Johnny added.

"Now can we go there?" Natalie asked.

"We have reasonable doubt about their activities," Stottlemeyer said.

"That's a yes, right?" Natalie asked.

Stottlemeyer nodded. "We need a plan. I'm sure these people will be expecting us. Probably not us specifically, but our type. Which means they'll have people watching for us and they'll be ready to clear out at a second's notice. "

"Vera," Monk said.

"What?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"I thought maybe she was trying to escape, but she's their diversion. She's with them," Monk said sadly.

"We don't know that, Mr. Monk," Natalie soothed.

"We don't know you're not right, either," Stottlemeyer said.

Monk hung his head, and Natalie rubbed his shoulder.

"If she is their diversion, they'll be trying to get away while we go after her," Johnny said. "And they'll probably know that we suspect she's a diversion and have people ready to go after them."

"They'll probably also have someone staying behind to make sure they're not followed," Bruce said.

"Which means we'll have to be very careful and very sneaky," Stottlemeyer said.

"Well, they can't expect us to be everywhere," Disher said.

"That's it," Monk said.

"Good thinking, Randy," Stottlemeyer said.

Disher smiled. "Yeah, well."

"Ok, here's the plan."

While Stottlemeyer outlined the plan, Disher congratulated himself and basked in the praise he had received.

"Everybody clear?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"Yes."

"Let's go."

"Wait a minute," Disher said as the others left. "What's the plan?" he called rushing after them.

III

Bruce, Johnny, Natalie and Monk sat in a booth in a diner down the street from the building behind Oliver Enterprises.

Disher sat in the back of an unmarked surveillance van in the parking lot of the diner.

Stottlemeyer and five other officers sat in squad cars placed strategically between Oliver Enterprises and the street where Johnny's vision took place. Each squad car was concealed behind a bush or a building or another car.

Various other officers both in plain clothes and uniforms were scattered about.

Through his binoculars, Disher saw a group of people exit the building behind Oliver Enterprises. Two people walked in opposite directions and scanned the area. They rejoined the group, and Disher saw one man look directly at the van.

"My position's been made," he said via radio.

"Roger that," Stottlemeyer answered.

Disher watched the group disperse. Two people went back inside. All but two of the remaining people headed toward the parking lot beside the building. When they were out of sight, the smaller of the two people left behind kicked the larger one in the groin and punched him in the nose. He went down, and the other one took off running.

"She's loose," Disher said.

"Roger. Monk, you're on," Stottlemeyer said.

"I'm on," Monk said nervously.

"Good luck," Johnny said.

"Ditto," Bruce said.

"You'll be fine," Natalie assured him with a smile.

"Ok." Monk glanced at a nearby table and got up.

As soon as Vera Laney ran past the window, a man at the nearby table wiped his mouth and left the table.

III

Monk stepped into Vera's path.

She sidestepped him and kept going.

"Hey!" Monk ran after her. "Stop!"  
"Leave me alone!"

"Vera!" Monk pleaded.

Vera stopped and looked back at him. "Just let me go," she pleaded and ran again.

"Vera!" Monk ran faster.

"Stay away from me!" Vera shrieked.

"Wait! You don't understand."

As Vera rounded the corner of the building like in Johnny's vision, two men jumped out from behind a dumpster and aimed weapons at Monk.

Monk skidded to a stop, grimacing at the scuffmarks he was creating. He'd have to throw these shoes away.

"Let her go," one man ordered.

Two officers appeared from around the corner Vera had just passed. They had their weapons trained on the two men.

"Police," one officer bellowed. "Drop your weapons."

The two men turned and started lowering their guns.  
"Go, Mr. Monk."

Monk didn't hesitate. He rounded the corner of the building to find Vera by the lamppost with her hands on her knees, catching her breath.

"Vera."

She looked up startled. "I told you to stay away from me."

Monk could see the lights of the Suburban approaching as he slowly walked toward Vera.

"I'm here to help you."

"You can't help me," Vera said backing into the street. "You'll just get yourself killed."

She was in the middle of the street now.

The van's horn blew.

She turned to see it approaching too fast.

She froze.

The van swerved at the exact moment she regained her composure and moved. Unfortunately, she moved directly into its path again.

As the front bumper was about to impact her, Vera felt herself flying. She hit the pavement hard enough to have the breath knocked out of her.

Monk landed beside her, face down with one arm across her waist. He heard sirens and footsteps before blackness enveloped him.

III

"Mr. Monk. Mr. Monk?"

Monk opened his eyes to see three blurry faces above him.

Johnny smiled. "Hey."  
"Welcome back," Bruce said.

His nose felt heavy, so Monk reached up to touch it.

"Your nose is broken, sir," an EMT said. "You've also got a concussion." He shone a penlight into Monk's eyes.

"Ah," Monk cried and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Sorry. Just checking your pupils now that you're conscious."

"Vera?" Monk tried to raise himself.

"You need to remain still, sir," the EMT said pushing against his shoulders.

"She's right over there," Bruce said as Johnny moved aside. "She's gonna be fine."

"Thanks to you," Johnny said with a smile.

Monk squinted and saw Natalie sitting with Vera on the floor of another ambulance further down the street.

Monk, Johnny and Bruce watched as Stottlemeyer led another man over to the ambulance. The man swayed, and Stottlemeyer placed a hand on his arm to steady him.

When Vera looked up, her eyes filled with tears. She leapt out of the ambulance and into the man's arms.

Natalie smiled and shook the man's hand when Vera introduced them.

Vera must have mentioned Monk because Natalie and the man turned to look in his direction. Noticing that he was awake, Natalie touched Stottlemeyer's arm, and they headed over together.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Monk?"

"Ok. Headache."

"You'll be back to normal in no time," Stottlemeyer said. "Well, you know what I mean. Nice work," he added patting Monk's shoulder.

"I'm so proud," Natalie gushed hugging Monk quickly.

"And thank you, Mr. Smith." Stottlemeyer offered Johnny a hand. "This isn't the way we usually solve cases, but we couldn't have done it without you this time."

"It was my pleasure. Thank you for coming to believe in me."

Stottlemeyer nodded and offered a hand to Bruce. "That's thanks to you, Mr. Lewis."

Bruce shrugged and shook the Captain's hand. "I didn't really do anything."

"You stood up for a friend. That went a long way in my decision to trust him."

Bruce was momentarily speechless. "Well, he's been through a lot. Gotta cut him some slack now and again. Even though he can be a pain in the ass sometimes."

Stottlemeyer laughed. "Well, if you ever run out of cases in Maine…"

"Thank you, Captain," Johnny said touched.

"If you'll excuse me, I've got some stuff to wrap up," Stottlemeyer said. "Monk, do what the doctors say. I know you will." He waved at them all and left.

Natalie, Bruce and Johnny turned to see Monk gazing at Vera and the man sitting side by side on the ambulance's fender. They had their arms around each other. Vera's head rested on his shoulder; his chin rested on her head.

"It's getting kind of late," Johnny said. "We should probably let Mr. Monk rest."

"Yeah. Do you need a ride?" Bruce asked Natalie.

She smiled at him. "Thanks, but I'm going to go with Mr. Monk to the hospital. They want to keep him overnight. I just want to make sure he gets settled in. He's got lots of quirks, you know."

"We saw a few," Bruce said with a laugh. "We're still on for coffee though right?"

"I'm looking forward to it. Give me a call in the morning. My number's in the book."

"Ok. Good night." Bruce and Natalie hugged. "Bye, Mr. Monk." Bruce patted Monk's hand. "Make sure they take good care of you."

"Natalie can do that."

"Pleasure working with you," Johnny said to Monk as he hugged Natalie. "Maybe we can do it again sometime."

"I think I'd like that."

"Wow, he practically asked you to be his partner," Natalie said.

"Let's not go that far."  
Natalie, Bruce and Johnny laughed.

"Good night," Bruce and Johnny said and walked off.

"Good night," Natalie said.

"So, you think I'm a pain in the ass?" Johnny asked punching Bruce lightly on the shoulder. "You ain't seen nothin' yet."

Bruce shook his head. "It's gonna be a long trip home."

Johnny laughed.

Natalie laughed and turned back to Monk.

He was still gazing at Vera.

"That's Tom Bennett. Her husband," Natalie explained. "Well, he will be soon. She told me she was married to Jake Newman, BKA better known as Leon as you figured out. She found out who he was and all the 'ventures' he was involved in and wanted a divorce. He wouldn't agree to grant her one unless she helped his team test some new drug they were developing. The Ramone brothers tried to talk Leon out of using her as a lab rat and even creating the drug in the first place. Apparently, they were too bad for business, so Leon decided to get rid of them. When Tom was caught trying to warn them, Vera agreed to help them escape in return for Tom's life."

Monk smiled.

"You were right. She was doing everything to protect him."

"Yeah," Monk said still smiling.

They watched Vera and Tom silently for a while, Monk never losing his smile.

"Thinking about Trudy," Natalie asked at length.

"Always," Monk replied and closed his eyes.

AN: As promised, I finished the story over the weekend. On one hand, I'm relieved to have it finished. On the other hand, I'm sad to see it done.

Thanks for all the reviews. I hope you enjoyed it.


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